


Poison Two - L2

by Ginnybag



Series: Poison [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Oz Fic, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginnybag/pseuds/Ginnybag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following on from the events of Poison One. With Zechs in space and Treize in Luxembourg, the two men only have written correspondance to build their new relationship. But when the past makes Zechs take a risk, what will be the consequences?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison Two - L2

_Colonel Treize Khushrenada_

_Luxembourg Base_

_24th October AC193_

_Major Zechs Marquise_

_Mission Commander_

_L2 Base_

_My Dear Zechs,_

_I trust that this letter finds you in good health and better spirits after your departure from Earth and arrival on the Colony?_

_I confess that I haven't spent a great deal of time in the Colonies myself, but I had reason to visit L2 on one rather memorable occasion a few years ago. I recall it as being a less than hospitable place – certainly a far cry from the standards of the colonies at L4._

_With this in mind, I have to enquire as to whether your accommodations are up to standard and whether there is anything you require that I could have sent to you? Certainly, it shall never be said that I do not keep the matter of my Officers' welfare close to my heart!_

_In truth though, the purpose of this missive is, in the main, an attempt to encourage you to stay in contact over the course of your mission. I shall be most displeased with you if I hear nothing from you but mission reports for the next two months! It takes little enough time to add a message of your own to the file before you send it and my communications are completely secure, so you need have no fear of seeming silly should your men discover that you still talk to your old friend!_

_I shall leave you now to sleep, whilst I try to accomplish the same… Rank Hath Its Privileges, supposedly, but an uninterrupted night of sleep seems rarely to be one of them._

_Good night, my friend, and I wish you pleasant dreams,_

_Treize Khushrenada._

_P.S. Bitte sei vorsichtig und komm zu mir zurück!_

 

Zechs smiled down at the paper he held in his hand and then carefully refolded it, sliding it into a narrow compartment in his bag so that it would be safe.

Lying back on the narrow bunk in the rather drab room he had been assigned, he lifted the dried rose bud that had fallen out of his letter to his nose and shook his head slightly.

Treize was a master at turning a phrase – in one innocuous page, the man had managed to tell him that he loved him, inform him that if they sent their communications by email they would be secure enough that they could say what they wanted and remind him of the conversation they had had before he left on _interesting_ dreams!

Only the last sentence on the page exposed them to any risk. Zechs spoke just enough German that he could, with the help of a dictionary he had found in Luxembourg before he left Earth, translate the sentence to read 'Please be careful – come back to me'.

Even that, though perhaps inappropriate for a senior officer to his junior, would pass inspection when laid in the context of their known history and the friendship, with its air of brotherhood, that they were known to share.

Carefully securing the deep red flower in the inside pocket of his jacket, he turned to the computer on the desk in the corner of the room and began to compose his reply.

 

**To: T. Khushrenada, Colonel**

**From: Z. Marquise, Major**

**Good Evening, Treize.**

**As requested, I am replying to your letter – I will give you no cause to be displeased with me, as it pleases me to have your approval in everything I do.**

**I am delighted to report that the embarkation of my mission went without issue and that all my men and supplies have arrived on L2 without any problems. As of this moment, my troops are settled for the night and I hope nothing shall arise to disturb them. Like you, I hold such matters close to my own heart and I am glad to hear this is a matter on which we agree.**

**L2 is a horrid place.**

**Unlike you, I cannot claim to have seen much of the other colonies, though I have vague recollections of a visit to one colony or another when I was very young, but I can honestly say that I have never seen anywhere so utterly squalid in my life. Even the refugee camps in the inner cities on Earth aren't so wretched!**

**The entire colony seems to live under a miasma of fear and despair. I have yet to see anyone apart from Alliance personnel that looks well fed, and fully half of the citizenship seems in need of a good bath. Having seen conditions here, it surprises me not at all that this colony is one of the worst for producing rebel forces.**

**On other matters, I have yet to come up with any ideas for my birthday. I will keep thinking about it, but I suspect that I will eventually end up giving in and telling you to arrange whatever you think most suitable. You are far better at such things than I am anyway – I have not your knack for it.**

**My pilot on the way here – the one that displayed such a beautiful sense of timing in closing his cockpit door – turned out to be a Lieutenant Otto. A charming man, just graduated from the Academy, and an excellent pilot. I am afraid I have stolen the man away from his original posting and made him my aide. The girl assigned to me when I reached New Edwards was utterly hopeless and I assumed your advice about pens applied as well to assistants. I know well how lost you would be without the Lady Une and I can only hope that Otto turns out to be as useful, though I shan't be using him for paperwork!**

**It turns out that he hails from the Sanc kingdom, originally. I have to wonder how many others from Sanc serve in the Alliance military? It seems an unlikely career choice for a people who were sworn to pacifism before the Alliance destroyed their ruling family and most of the capital city along with them.**

**But then, perhaps that is the motivation?**

**My bed here leaves something to be desired as compared to the one I inhabited in Luxembourg so recently and certainly is no match for those I recall you having at your estate in Salzburg, but it is comfortable enough allow me to rest and relax. I shall go to it in a moment, when I have finished this, and try to oblige your wish of pleasant dreams.**

**In the hope that you have the same,**

**Zechs.**

_To: Z. Marquise, Major_

_From: T. Khushrenada, Colonel_

_Balls!_

_Balls!_

_More Balls!_

_I am plagued by endless Balls!_

_Soirees! Evening Receptions! Diplomatic Dinners!_

_All synonyms for Balls!_

_It's been nothing but Balls for the last two weeks – I've attended, in the last thirteen evenings, no less than ten of the damned things! And I have to attend another one tonight!_

_Even I don't own this many dress uniforms! I thought Lady Une was gong to cry this morning when I told her she was required to attend tonight's little function as well._

_She and your friend Noin – I have told you she's been assigned to my staff for the next few months, haven't I? – have taken to sharing their wardrobes in an attempt to come up with something different to wear each time!_

_The base domestic staff is ready to take up arms, I fear. Between the catering requirements, the ballroom having to be made ready every day and the sheer volume of laundry being produced, they look utterly harried!_

_Won't they be grateful when they find out that I've cancelled all plans being made for Christmas Balls?_

_Forgive my ranting?_

_With deepest affections,_

_Treize_

Lady Une watched as her commanding officer's mouth twitched in a smile as he looked over the correspondence on his computer and wondered what he could have received that would make him inclined to smile. Given that his usual response to a good percentage of his mail was simply to forward it to her for handling, she had a good idea of what it usually consisted of and none of it was, in the main, the least bit humorous.

"Sir? Is something… wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all, Lady. I was merely considering an email from Zechs."

The young officer turned back to his computer screen, leaving his assistant to grit her teeth as she continued to work.

She had no idea what it was the two men were saying to each other, but she did know that they had exchanged dozens of emails in the month that the Major had been on L2. At least one a day, and frequently more.

And, no matter how his day had been, they never failed to bring a smile to the general's face – something she struggled to do, no matter how hard she tried.

She bit her lip, wondering for the hundredth time what was going on between the two men. Her suspicions, ignited by that meeting with General Septum, had only grown stronger when, that same evening, she had tried to reach her commanding officer in his office and his rooms only to be told by a passing soldier that he had seen him, not five minutes before, on his way down to the hangers with the pilot.

Cursing to herself, she had hurried down there, drawing to a halt in the doorway in time to observe their last exchange of words on the steps to the plane, and then to hear the general's words as he stepped away from the engine wash.

Almost boiling with fury, the quiet, heartfelt prayer he had muttered to a God she hadn't known he believed in had stopped her cold and turned her anger to overwhelming sympathy. She had moved to his side, hoping there was something she could do to take the shadows from his rich blue eyes.

'God in Heaven – take care of him.'

Words that he could have meant in any number of ways, she reminded herself. It wouldn't be out of place to offer such thoughts for a friend.

And he had, on one late evening last year, mentioned to her that the blond had always been the younger brother he didn't have, and had been since they had first met as children.

She scowled to herself and cursed herself for caring.

_To: Z. Marquise, Major_

_From: T. Khushrenada, Colonel_

_Dear Zechs,_

_Having utterly given up on receiving an answer other than 'I don't know!' from you on the subject of your birthday, I have taken the liberty of organising it myself!_

_As you, no doubt, intended from the very beginning._

_I have also, finally, gotten Christmas into some sort of order and you may be pleased to hear that we will be in Salzburg for the season._

_I am told that you are scheduled to reach New Edwards very early in the morning of Christmas Eve and I have arranged a plane to fly you straight from there to Austria. I would suggest you sleep on the plane and in the car which will meet you at the airport – although you will have a few hours free in the afternoon, the evening will be taken up with the usual revelries and it would not do for you to look anything other than your absolute best!_

_Lady Une is scowling at me again as I write this!_

_Bless her, she does try. I think nothing would please her more than to be able to make me smile as you can._

_Three weeks remaining, my friend. Would it be selfish of me to tell you I am grateful that your posting has been so utterly boring?_

_With love,_

_Treize._

Zechs remembered those words ruefully as he gripped his controls harder and forced his Leo to dodge the incoming fire – _boring, indeed!_

Where this particular wave of rebellion had sprung from, no one quite seemed to know, but sprung it had.

An entire section of the colony had erupted into street warfare. Alliance bases, supply dumps and docking ports had all been targeted, some by suicide bombers, others by waves of rag-clad colonists toting whatever they could find to use as weapons.

Ordinary ground troops had been overwhelmed in minutes, almost too quickly for the mobile suits to get into a position to be of any use and now they simply added to the confusion.

"Get your men under control, Colonel!" Zechs snapped into his radio, hissing the words at the bleating voice of the Alliance commander.

"I am trying, Major Marquise! You must understand that most of them are ignoring their radios!"

"Why are they ignoring their radios, Colonel?"

"How should I know!?"

Zechs set his teeth. "Perhaps because that is your job?"

He ignored the flurry of indignant protest from the speaker and leaned into his pick-up.

"Listen to me, Colonel. My soldiers are taking fire _. I_ am taking fire, and I can't respond because your ill-disciplined rabble has broken formation and mingled with the crowd!"

A heavier impact on his left side shook his bones and he turned to see that the rebels had managed to commandeer one of the trucks that the Alliance soldiers had been firing missiles into the crowd from – missiles that the rebels were now free to send against his suits!

"Thirty seconds, Colonel. Get your men back behind our line, or we'll fire on them as well as the rebels."

"You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. I won't lose any more control on this situation for the sake of a few badly trained troops."

"Major…!"

Zechs ignored the screech, ignored a second heavy impact, and flicked his radio over to the frequency that allowed him to communicate with the suits under his command.

"Spread out! Flank this crowd, target the rebels and prepare to fire!"

"Yes, sir!"

Moving his hands with as much delicacy as he could manage, he used the sheer bulk of his suit, standing as it did meters from the ground, to push the swelling mob back and then watched as his troops took their cue from him and began to do the same, sealing them into a smaller and smaller area.

The missile launcher had turned its attention to another suit on the far side of the battle and for that he could be grateful; the Leo was tough, but he had already taken two direct hits – a third would do real damage.

There was a blare of klaxons as more ground troops tore up in more vehicles and began using their hand held weapons to pick out the most aggressive of the crowd – seemingly uncaring of the fact that most of the crowd were innocent bystanders.

Zechs felt the breath in his lungs suddenly stop.

Clear in his view screen was a child, a little girl with blond hair in pigtails and a pink dress, no more than three years old and alone.

_Relena!_

Even as he thought his sister's name, he knew it wasn't her – she would be 12 now – but the resemblance of this child to how he had last seen his sister, standing crying in the rubble of her nursery, her nurse, dead from a falling beam, at her side, was uncanny and he couldn't help but react.

He scanned the environment for any immediate threat, saw none and opened his radio to instruct one of the ground soldiers to pick the child up and take her out of harm's way.

As he did, a young woman from the crowd darted forward and swept the child into her arms. Golden hair glinted in the artificial sunlight and Zechs knew that the woman had to be the girl's mother, or at the least, her older sister.

He sighed and turned his eye back to the field at large.

The missile truck was turning again, readying its next shot, and its line of fire would cause it to hit the mother and child almost directly. Zechs looked between the truck and the mother and daughter and knew they wouldn't be able to move fast enough.

He flipped the switch on his main weapon, readying himself to fire and then saw that anything he aimed at the truck would likely also pierce the skin of the colony, exposing it and everyone in this section to hard vacuum.

A flash told him that the missile had been launched.

Without hesitating, Zechs put his suit between himself and the girls.

The missile hit and his world spun into blackness.

 

 

 

 

No email.

_Two full days and no reply to my last email. Why wouldn't he reply?_

Treize paced the length of his office, hands clasped behind his back, cloak flaring behind him on the sharp turns he was forced to make at the end of each length.

He'd been worried the previous day – for the entire length of Zechs' mission, they hadn't gone more than twelve hours without some sort of message back and forth, even if it were only a few words.

Now he was frantic.

He paced, burning off nervous energy, ignoring the piles of paperwork he was neglecting on his desk.

What the hell was going on in L2?

His door chime sounded and he nearly growled at it.

"Yes?" he snapped.

"Sir, it's Lady Une. May I come in?"

The cultured voice of his assistant grated on ragged nerves but he knew he couldn't say no, and he flicked the switch inlaid into his desk that would unlock the door.

The wooden door opened as she pushed it out of her way and then took two steps into the room, as neat and severe as she always was.

"Well?" he demanded, not pleased with her intrusion.

"Sir, we've had a communication from the Alliance commander on L2," she began.

"And?"

"There was an… uprising two days ago. Major Marquise's troops were instrumental in quelling it. Here's the report from the Alliance Colonel, sir."

"The Colonel's report? Why isn't Zechs reporting this to me himself?"

The Lady bit her lip and Treize felt ice flow through his veins, freezing his heartbeat and his breath in his lungs. "Lady?" he asked, his voice unnaturally quiet.

"He was injured, sir. He's in hospital."

_He's alive!_

"How seriously injured?"

"I… don't know, sir. His Leo took a missile strike protecting a civilian mother and daughter. Its systems blew – they had to cut the cockpit door out."

Treize slumped onto the sofa. "Mein Gott!"

Une felt a pang at the look on his face. He hadn't reacted this overtly when she'd told him of his mother's death. "I'm sure he's alright, sir," she said quietly, trying to be supportive and not knowing how. Her support wasn't something he'd ever needed before.

"Are you?" He looked up at her and shook his head. "Get me a channel to L2. Now!"

"Yes, sir!"

 

 

_L2 Base Hospital_

"…stupid bastard! What the hell were you thinking of? You might have been killed! According to the engineer's report, you _should_ have been killed!"

Zechs rested his aching head back onto the thin pillow and waited for his commanding officer to run out of breath. "Would you rather I'd let them die, sir?" he asked, more sharply than he'd intended.

"Of course not! I'm not questioning why you did it!"

"I had no choice, sir."

On the video uplink, Treize snorted. "Doubtless they aren't even grateful!"

Zechs cringed. "Actually, sir…" he started, and was rather rudely interrupted.

"Oh, let me guess! They've brought you flowers and a hand drawn card?!"

The scorn in the older man's voice made the younger colour.

"Dear God, they haven't!?" Treize shook his head. "Well, it's good publicity for the Specials at least."

"Sir?"

"Haven't you heard?" the general asked with a sickeningly sweet smile. "You're a hero, Major! 'Lightening Baron Saves Innocents From Alliance Incompetence!' You should only be grateful there are no pictures."

Zechs shut his eyes with a wince. "I suppose I should, sir," he agreed, wishing the older man wouldn't shout at him.

Treize didn't often let his temper out of his control, but when he did, it was formidable.

Four days of nerve-searing worry had left the older man a powder keg, and the sight of his friend awake and seemingly unhurt had been the spark that had caused him to blow.

Zechs shot a look at the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen, wondering how long it would be before the Doctors allowed him another shot for the pain.

Although he'd taken no serious injuries, he was covered from head to foot in cuts and bruises and every inch of him hurt – not the least his head, which wasn't being helped by his commanding officer's tirade.

There was blessed silence for a moment. and then a much quieter, concerned, "Zechs?"

The pilot forced himself to open his eyes and look at the auburn haired man. "Sir?"

"You are alright, aren't you?" Treize asked, his eyes glinting with his worry.

"I will be, sir, I promise," Zechs reassured. The marks of Treize's fretting for him were clear on his commander's face, and the blond didn't like seeing them. "I've been told I can leave the hospital as soon as I've eaten a proper meal."

"Then you will still be back for Christmas?"

"Of course I will. It's hardly going to take me two weeks to recover from a few bruises."

"Good." Treize suddenly smiled at him. "I've missed you, despite all the messages."

"And I, you. It will be good to be back on Earth."

"I never did tell you what I have planned for Christmas, did I?"

"You told me we would be in Salzburg."

"Yes, from Christmas Eve until just before the New Year. You'll join me on Christmas Eve, along with Lady Une and Captain Noin – I thought you might want her along and I've gotten quite fond of the girl, she's almost as good a pilot as you are – for dinner and then midnight mass. Une and Noin are staying in the house so it'll be just the four of us for Christmas Day and then a whole torrent of people for the Christmas Night Ball."

"Sounds… chaotic."

"It is. But then you and I will have three days to ourselves. Une and Noin can handle our jobs for a day or two. We'll have to back in Luxembourg for the New Year, however. More Diplomatic Dances!"

Zechs laughed. "Poor Treize! All that dancing!"

"Hmm!"

"You enjoy it and don't pretend otherwise."

"Perhaps."

The two of them looked at each other and then Treize shook himself. "I'll see you on Christmas Eve."

"Yes, sir."


End file.
